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Legend

Poem

Mor and the Fairy Lover

Carmina Gadelica no. 511

(English translation from the original Gaelic version)

The mist is on the hill

The mist is on the hill

The mist is on the hill

        And on the scree

The mist is on the hill

And in the glen

Where there met me

        The comely maiden

'Tis the bright, brown-haired one

'Tis the bright, brown-haired one

'Tis the bright, brown-haired one

        Who bore the sonto me

'Tis the bright, brown-haired one

Who bore the child

Though not gently

        Did she nurseit.

Ill o hu o

Ill o hu o

Ill o ho ho

Little brown-haired Mor

Little brown-haired Mor

Little brown-haired Mor

        Come back to thyson!

And thou shalt get the beautiful

        String of troutfrom me

Alas and alas

And alas and alas!

Cold is the blast

Cold is the blast

Cold is the blast

        Beside a hillock!Without fire

        Without comfort orshelter

Alas and alas

And alas and alas!

Thy small soft mouth

Against my old grey snout

As I sing sadly

        Beside a hillock!

Without fire

        Without comfort or shelter